It’s almost unthinkable to leave your phone lying around. I’ll admit, when I put it in the wrong pocket, I end up slapping around my pelvic area like some perverted lunatic until I find it. Most sensible people wouldn’t leave their phone unattended. Easy.

So why do people leave their clothes? I’m not talking about the mysterious blouse you find by the bus stop at three in the morning. I’m talking about laundry.

The comparison may seem a little far-fetched, but think about it: You see them everywhere you go. They’re expensive. They’re manufactured in despicable conditions in developing nations. They seem to go out of style as quickly as they came in.

Sure, you may take care of your clothes when they’re on your body, but when they’re abandoned in the depths of your dorm laundry room, you might as well give them away for free.

We’ve all been there. It’s 11:00 p.m. You realize you don’t have any clothes for tomorrow and you’ve been wearing the same Greek letters for eight weeks. It’s probably time to throw some things in the wash. After lugging your basket to the elevator — or over to Goldstein if you’re on South — panic sets in.

Every damn machine is full of someone’s wet clothes. Every single one. Most aren’t even running, but people just love to let their laundry ferment in the washing machine for hours on end. These leavers of laundry are, without a doubt, the worst people in the world. But you, being the more important person that you are, need to wash your clothes too.

Screw ‘em, right? Just throw their laundry onto the floor. It’s 11:37 p.m. and they should’ve been here 20 minutes ago. But when you do this, you become the other worst type of person in the history of college problems: a laundry thrower.

It’s a true moral dilemma we’re faced with here. What’s the buffer zone? It’s unrealistic to expect people to show up exactly when the timer runs out. I’d say to give them 15 minutes.

The Office of Housing, Meal Plan and I.D. Card Services — or shall we say OHMPIDCS — ought to put another timer on the washing machines. When the wash cycle is over, the new timer turns on. After 15 minutes, the machine just vomits those shirts, socks, pants and intimate wear all over the place.

You wouldn’t leave your dog in a hot car, so why in Kent’s name would you leave your clothes in the washing machine? Of course, your clothes aren’t going to die, but you’re being rude and inviting laundry thieves into your machine. If you’re not on time, don’t expect them to show any mercy.

I’m sure there’s a cute pair of yoga pants calling my name in any given laundry room right now, and there’s not a whole lot stopping me from strolling on in and taking them. Every machine is just a really heavy, metal shopping bag filled with hundreds of dollars worth of free clothes. Maybe the Department of Public Safety should have an officer on call to rescue those poor, abandoned outfits.

Let’s face it: doing laundry is a drag. A lack of desire to do the wash turns the Quad into a runway full of mismatched models by week’s end.

I’ll be honest, though. I’m no angel when it comes to picking up my clothes on time. I’m a busy guy. Rarely do I listen to my own column’s advice, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t.

Change is within our grasp. If we’re going to lessen the hassle of doing laundry, the first step comes from us. Given the choice between having all of my clothes stolen or hanging around to wait for them, I think the choice is pretty obvious.

Shield your eyes. For me, this winter is going to be a lot colder.

Zach Schweikert is a sophomore advertising major. If you want to scare small children, show them his picture. His column appears every Thursday in Pulp. He can be reached at zdschwei@syr.edu

Published on September 18, 2014 at 12:01 am